


Thread of Fate

by quartzguts



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Kingdom Hearts III Spoilers, Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: The Master of Masters forged his apprentices' keyblades from their hearts. The effect that this has on Luxu is unique, to say the least.





	Thread of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't tag major character death since the death is only mentioned. There's also a bit of mentioned Xehanort/Eraqus. The rest of the Foretellers + Even and Ienzo are here too but they're not really important.
> 
> Mild warning for animal death/cruelty. Basically the Master is a mad scientist and shouldn't be allowed near spirits.

“Just breathe,” the Master told him as he plunged his hand into his heart.

 

Luxu did his best. The Master's leather gloves were cold as they drew the light out of his chest. Luxu watched as the little glimmering specks settled in the air between them, illuminating the lab with a soft purple glow.

 

The Master hummed in approval. “See?” He murmured. “I knew you were the right choice. This keyblade will be _perfect_.”

 

Luxu nodded a little, but the movement made him woozy. His heart felt like it was being splintered, and in a way it was; the Master needed fragments of it to craft his masterpiece. Luxu had been honored when he'd asked him, albeit a little apprehensive. The Master had assured him that it wouldn't hurt, not a bit; Luxu wouldn't even be able to feel the pieces that were missing.

 

It definitely didn't hurt. It did ache, though; his entire body felt fuzzy, static currents running through his ribcage, seeping into his blood and bones. There was no absence, but more than a little discomfort as the Master finished pulling him apart.

 

“There we go,” he said casually as the glowing dust evened out in the rough shape of a keyblade. Luxu breathed in sharply.

 

“It is done?” He asked, gazing over the newborn weapon.

 

“Nah, it still needs a little something,” the Master replied, his tone remarkably unaffected by what had just happened. “Why don't you go get some rest? You look a bit tired.”

 

 _No shit_ , was what came to Luxu's mind, and it made him pause. He had never spoken like that to the Master _,_ even though he sometimes wanted to. And now, against his will, the words formed on his tongue. Luxu swallowed them down carefully.

 

The draft listing through the room seemed to whisper to him. **_Be honest_** , it sang.

 

“Yes, Master,” he managed out after a few belated moments. “I'll see you in the morning.”

 

“‘Night,” the Master said, and Luxu felt a bit more miffed than usual that he didn't even look at him. Even though he was a grown man, the Master could make him feel so small.

 

He stumbled down the hallways towards his room. It was very late - or was it early, by now? Luxu could scarcely remember what time it had been when they'd begun. It felt like only minutes had passed as the Master expertly unravelled his very existence, but it easily could've been longer.

 

When he reached his room, he fumbled with the lock and nearly collapsed the moment he was through the door. The clock above his bed read 3:47 am.

 

The Master had been collecting bits of his heart for almost four hours.

 

Luxu threw himself onto his bed. He would deal with it all later.

 

When the morning light hit his eyes after only a few hours of sleep, he groaned and rolled onto his side. He was still wearing his coat, and the warm summer air floating in through his window was making it stick to his skin with sweat. He felt gross, like he hadn't showered in days, but couldn't find the energy to get up and wash himself. Even worse, his chest still ached, blood carrying the static to every inch of his body. Luxu pushed himself up and let out a strangled cry. He could feel it.

 

He stumbled out of bed, hand clutching his chest. It felt like his body was riddled with holes, and if he just pushed a little, he’d be able to reach in and feel for himself the shape of his mangled heart.

 

The Master had lied to him. Again. Luxu was used to the Master’s deception, but his lies were usually harmless. And he’d definitely never lied for the purpose of hurting him. Luxu groaned again as his stomach lurched.

 

Maybe he hadn’t known that this would happen. Luxu made up his mind. He’d have to talk to the Master first, before he let himself get angry.

 

Unfortunately, he was no better off than he had been the previous night. Trying to get back to the Master’s lab was a struggle. As he turned a corner, grabbing the wall for support, he walked straight into Ava.

 

The impact, although small, was enough to send him reeling. Ava was at his side in a second, worriedly hovering over him. “Luxu! Are you okay?” she asked as she grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up.

 

“Fine,” he grumbled. Realizing how rude that sounded, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m okay, really. Just had a rough night helping the Master.”

 

“Are you sure that’s it?” Ava bit her lip. “You look _awful_. What happened?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Luxu said, waving his hand to the side. “The Master made my keyblade last night. I’m still kind of hazy. It was like this for you guys too, right?”

 

“Not at all. I just felt a little dizzy for a few minutes. You mean that - have you been like this all night?”

 

Luxu felt sick. “Like I said, I'm fine. I’m just going to go talk to the Master. It’s nothing, Ava.”

 

She looked like she didn’t believe him, but eventually nodded and stepped out of the way. “I’ll check up on you later,” she said as Luxu stumbled past her.

 

Luckily he didn’t pass any of the others on his way to the Master’s lab. By the time he made it, his breaths were short and strained. He knocked on the door, hard.

 

“Come in!” The Master called out from inside. Luxu pushed the door open slowly.

 

“Hey there - woah! You look like you’ve seen better days! What’s up?” The Master didn’t sound particularly concerned. He barely even looked at Luxu before turning back to the book he was reading.

 

**_What are you waiting for? Speak your mind._ **

 

Luxu growled, then blinked in surprise, startled by his own behavior. He struggled to find his usual politeness. “I haven’t felt right since last night,” he said. His voice sounded raspy even to his own ears. “I can feel it. The places where my heart is fractured.”

 

The Master snapped his head up at that. “Huh. That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, sounding a little frantic as he rushed over to take a closer look at him. He flicked back Luxu’s hood and ran a hand through his hair. “I might have taken too much of your heart.”

 

“ _What._ ”

 

“Don’t fret, my beloved apprentice. It’ll be fine,” he said. Luxu couldn’t help but find the contrast between his sweet words and panicked voice funny. “It couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid. I needed quite a bit of your heart to make your keyblade.”

 

“Why’s that?” Luxu asked as the Master half led, half dragged him over to sit in his desk chair. He felt the tiniest thrill at being allowed to sit in what amounted to his Master’s throne.

 

The Master grinned at him beneath his hood. “You see, your keyblade - well, it’s going to be more powerful that the others’. _Way_ more powerful. We’re talking the most impressive weapon the world’s ever seen!”

 

“Why? Aced is the most skilled fighter among us. I’m not useful for battle at all.”

 

“Well, no, but your keyblade is going to have to stand the test of time. Don’t worry about it, you’ll understand soon.” The Master pet his hair. Luxu leaned into the touch. “Besides, the stronger your weapon, the safer you’ll be.”

 

The remains of Luxu’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

 

“With a weapon like that, no one will ever be able to hurt you,” the Master murmured. Luxu perked up, recognizing that tone. It was the one he only used when it was just the two of them, alone. Right now, he wasn’t the Master; he was only a man, albeit one Luxu would gladly dedicate his life to.

 

The Master leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Don’t worry. This is only temporary. Once your keyblade is done, you’ll have your heart back in one place, I promise.”

 

“Okay,” Luxu breathed. **_Tell him._** “I trust you.”

 

The Master spent the next few hours messing around in his lab, finishing up his experiments and taking breaks to check up on Luxu. Luxu tried to help out by tidying up some of his Master’s messes, but he was always quickly shooed back to the chair to rest. The Master eventually made him go wash up and eat some breakfast, then set out a cot for him to lie down on. He watched the Master work for the rest of the day, taking comfort in his presence. Most of the bitterness from earlier had faded, although bits of it still hung around in a dark cloud at the back of his mind. The Master hadn’t lied. Luxu knew that he wouldn’t have proposed the idea if he’d known the effect it would have.

 

Although, he also knew that he would have agreed regardless of the danger. He would do anything for the Master.

 

He knew how horrible that would sound to an outsider. On the surface, the Master appeared to be singularly dedicated to his research, unable to think or care about anything else. To be willing to do anything, even sacrifice his own heart, for someone like that would be unimaginable for an ordinary person _._ But Luxu knew better. He had spent years with the Master, learning how to read between the lines.

 

He knew that the Master cared for him more than anyone else. He could see it in the early morning when it was just the two of them awake; in the evening when sleepiness made them more honest than usual; in the middle of the night when some deep longing made Luxu stay up late, knowing the Master was up, too.

 

He _saw_ the Master’s love in many places. Although lately Luxu had been thinking that there might not be anything wrong with _saying_ it, too.

 

As the sun started to set, casting long shadows over the room, a small knock came on the door. Luxu moved to get up and open it, but the Master was quicker, swiftly crossing the room before Luxu's feet hit the floor.

 

The Master happily greeted their visitor and invited them in. Luxu could tell it was Ava by her footsteps.

 

“Oh, you’re here!” she exclaimed, coming over to kneel by the cot. Luxu smiled at her and sat up, grimacing a little. He’d been lying down most of the day, and his muscles were cramping as a result.

 

“Hello, Ava,” he said politely. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning. I wasn’t myself.”

 

“It’s okay. I’m just glad to see you’re feeling better now,” Ava said in relief. “Everyone was worried when you didn’t come to watch us practice today.”

 

Luxu laughed. The effort it took hurt his throat, but he endeavoured not to show it. “Tell them I appreciate the concern. But it’s not like I can do much at practice anyway.”

 

“You’ll be able to soon,” the Master called out from the other end of the room, where he’d gone to - give them privacy? Finish a report? Luxu wasn’t sure. “Your keyblade should be finished by the end of the week.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” Ava exclaimed. “I can’t wait to spar with you.”

 

“The feeling is mutual,” Luxu replied, although it really wasn’t. He and Ava were both pacifists, although in different ways. While Ava had no problem fighting her friends for the sake of playful training, Luxu was dreading it. It wasn’t just the fighting itself; he didn’t know his fellow apprentices very well. He had always been, for lack of better words, the Master’s favorite. His duties generally involved helping him with his experiments, not going out on missions with the others. He wanted to get to know them better, of course, and sparring together would give him the opportunity, but… well, he didn’t have much battle experience. Getting his ass handed to him in the training arena didn’t seem to be the best way to make a good impression.

 

Ava stayed for a little longer, telling Luxu about her day and inviting him to go into town with her and the others later in the week; he readily agreed, eager to spend time with them. When she left, the Master was quiet for a long while.

 

“I don’t mean to rain on your parade,” he said finally, “but you probably shouldn’t get so close to the others.”

 

Luxu looked up in confusion. “Why not?”

 

“You’ll understand soon.”

 

Luxu decided not to question him. He cancelled his plans with Ava later that day. The Master knew best, after all.

 

-

 

That weekend, the Master called Luxu into his lab, alone, to meet his new weapon. He wasn’t sure what he'd expected a keyblade forged from his own heart to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this.

 

Ornate, black and white, covered in scratches as if it had already been used to fight a hundred battles. A goat’s head decorated the base, intimidating and powerful. At the blade’s tip, there was an inlaid eye more vivid and blue than Luxu’s own. Its gaze was familiar somehow, although Luxu was sure he’d never met someone with such blue eyes.

 

The Master answered his question before he could ask it. “That’s the Gazing Eye.”

 

“The Gazing Eye? That’s its name?”

 

“Ah, no, that’s not what it’s called. It doesn’t have a name.” The implication was clear; Luxu would have to name it himself.

 

He smiled a little. “Alright. No Name, then.” Somehow, it felt right. Such a bizarre keyblade deserved an equally bizarre name.

 

The Master shifted a little in his seat, clearly waiting for something. Luxu wasn’t sure what he expected as a reaction. The others had been ecstatic upon receiving their keyblades, marvelling at how each one matched their personalities and aesthetics exactly. Luxu didn’t know what the Master was thinking this time around, because this brutish weapon was decidedly _not_ his style.

 

He was about to thank the Master for the gift anyway when he shifted No Name in his hands. All at once, it came crashing back to him.

 

The lost pieces of his heart surged forward. It felt like all those sparkles of purplish-blue light were rushing to the place where his hand touched No Name, desperate to crawl under his skin and make it back to the rest of his heart. He gasped, and for a moment, he could feel what No Name was feeling: the warm air ghosting over the metal, the dust of the room beginning to settle on the blade, the feel of his own fingers gripping the hilt.

 

He felt utterly whole, the horrible ache in his chest gone, the static swiftly trickling out of his limbs. He looked up at the Master in awe.

 

“That’s a connection the others lack,” the Master said plainly. “That keyblade is _yours_ ; it can never be truly bequeathed to another. You’ll always be tied to it, no matter how far it strays.”

 

“Thank you, Master,” he said, meaning it more than he ever had before, " _Thank you_.”

 

A phantom voice reached out and whispered in his ear. **_Tell him_** , it said. Luxu shivered.

 

“Aw, don’t sweat it. It’s the least I can do. Now, allow me to explain the rest of your role.” The Master got up, coming to stand before him. “You need to pass down that keyblade to your apprentice one day.”

 

It took a second for the statement to register. Then - “What!? But, it’s been horrible being separated from my heart this past week alone! To pass down No Name is - it’s just - !”

 

“Hey, it’s alright!” The Master said quickly, reaching out a hand to place on his shoulder. “Like I said, that keyblade will always be yours, no matter who’s wielding it. And it’s not like it'll stray far.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Luxu said.

 

The Master grinned. “Allow me to explain….”

 

It took about an hour for the Master to completely assay Luxu's concerns. Not that he wasn't still worried; even if he managed to stay close to No Name, even if he was only loaning it to his apprentices for a short time, the knowledge that he would soon be separated from part of his own heart made him more than a little uneasy. What was worse was knowing that the Master would be gone even before that.

 

In the next few days, to be precise. The knowledge that they'd meet again someday was only barely comforting.

 

The Master was extra careful to placate him, squeezing his shoulder and telling him that he was strong enough for his role. Luxu couldn't help but roll his eyes, despite his internal panic. “This is getting quite ridiculous, Master,” he said. “You don't have to be so concerned. I'll be fine no matter what.”

 

The Master paused. “You think I'm worried?”

 

“...aren't you?”

 

“Well, if that's what you think,” he said, patting Luxu's back.

 

Luxu sighed. He wanted to lean into the Master’s chest, wanted to feel it rise and fall as he breathed, but he resisted the urge. “Master,” he said quietly. “It’s just the two of us. You can be honest.”

 

The Master laughed. To anyone but Luxu, it would probably sound perfectly natural. But he could recognize the unease there. “Come on, I’m always honest with you!”

 

 **_Tell him_** **.** Louder this time. No Name seemed to quiver in his hands.

 

“You’re worried about me,” Luxu said, looking the Master right in the eye, “because you love me. It’s okay.”

 

The Master laughed again, sounding even more strained than before. “Wow, this whole thing must’ve affected your personality. The Luxu I know would never say something like that!”

 

**_Tell him! You won’t have the chance to later!_ **

 

Luxu huffed. “The Luxu you know,” he said hotly, “loves you too. Don’t forget that.”

 

He turned and left the room before the Master could respond.

 

The second he was out the door he began panicking. He’d ruined it. Absolutely _ruined_ it. Everything they had, up in smoke. The comfortable quiet. The implicit understanding. He’d taken it all and tossed it out the window without a second thought.

 

He raised No Name, still in his hands, and glared at it. “Was that you?” he whispered harshly. “Did you make me say that?”

 

The answer came intuitively. No one made him say it. It was always something he’d wanted to say.

 

Although Luxu never would have even considered saying it before. The realization that part of his heart being separate from the rest would change him permanently made him fumble. He didn’t want to change. He slowed down and looked at No Name again. Part of his deepest, truest self was now a weapon. Violent and sharp, poised to kill. A weapon couldn’t lie or hold back. And judging by the color of the light it had been made out of, it might not have been light at all. Darkness lived in his heart, enough to forge a keyblade out of.

 

Was his heart's new form a reflection of something which had always lived inside of him? Or a prophecy of what was to come?

 

 _May your heart be your guiding key_. The Master's favorite proverb felt almost mocking.

 

Luxu walked straight to the training grounds, knowing the Master wouldn't confront him about what he just said in front of the other apprentices. He also couldn’t deny that he wanted to see them one last time before he left. He'd been avoiding them all week on the Master's advice, and was starting to regret it just a little. The simmering panic in his chest quieted a bit when he saw Ava come bouncing towards him.

 

“Luxu, you got your keyblade!” She said, drawing the attention of the others.

 

“It looks strong,” Aced noted as he looked over No Name. “Well done.”

 

“It's not like I actually did anything,” Luxu said. He could feel eyes on him, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Sure enough, when Luxu glanced up moments later, he caught sight of the Master behind one of the dirty glass windows of his lab, looking down at him.

 

A little thrill ran through him, knowing the Master was neglecting his duties to watch him, even if the only reason he was doing it was because they didn't have much time left.

 

Training went better than he’d expected. He was easily overwhelmed by Aced’s brute strength and Invi’s calculating strategy, and was thrown to the ground more times than he’d care to admit. The sheet perfection of No Name made up for it, though. He could feel each strike of the others’ keyblades against it, could feel the air surge around the blade and the spark of his magic course through the metal. There was a certain disconnect though, something difficult to describe; the pieces in his chest and the pieces in No Name didn’t match up precisely anymore. Like there was something missing.

 

He let the others take turns holding it after they were done. Each of them complained about something different. Its balance, its weight, its length. They couldn't decide which was the problem.

 

 **_I'm you, and so I can only be wielded by you_** **,** No Name whispered, **_only by you and him._ **

 

The Dark Master. Luxu swallowed down the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. As Ira handed No Name back to him, he was struck with an overwhelming urge to warn him. What about, he wasn't sure. He swallowed those words down, too.

 

When he went back to the Master’s lab that evening, he hesitated at the door. It was routine for him to check and see if his Master needed him for anything at the end of the day, but he wasn’t looking forward to facing him after what had happened that morning. Their comfortable relationship was gone. With how erratic and unpredictable the Master behaved, Luxu wasn’t sure if he’d let a different kind of relationship develop. He didn’t doubt that the Master loved him. But just because he loved him didn’t mean he couldn’t reject him.

 

He didn't have the option of going back to his room and dealing with it tomorrow, though. They only had tonight left.

 

Before he could raise his fist to knock, the Master swung the door open. “Good! You’re here,” he said, sounding cheerful. “Come in, I have something to show you.”

 

“Um, okay,” Luxu said. He cautiously stepped into the lab.

 

“So, I was thinking, the new designs for the spirits we came up with the other day are awfully cute. But not all of the wielders are gonna like cute things, right? So I’ve decided we should come up with some more versatile designs. Let em mix and match. Like, look at this one, isn’t it fucked up?”

 

The Master kept rambling, showing Luxu dead mismatched spirits stuffed in bottles and test tubes. He was too used to the gore to be shocked by it anymore, but if one of the others were to walk in they’d probably be disgusted. As the Master passed over a particularly gross one - it looked like he’d cut off a hamster’s head and slapped it on a lion’s body - Luxu cleared his throat.

 

“Yeah? Something wrong with this one?” The Master asked, turning to face him.

 

“About what I said earlier,” Luxu started, but he was quickly cut off.

 

“Ah, no need to worry about that! I expected that you’d be a little off kilter for a few days after your keyblade was finished. Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

 

It wasn’t necessarily a rejection, but Luxu still felt the pain blossom in his heart. “I don’t want to forget,” he said hastily. “Master, we should talk.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous -”

 

“You’re the one being ridiculous,” Luxu said. “You said it yourself. I'll be gone tomorrow. Do you really want to part not having said it?”

 

The Master paused. They stood there for a long time, neither backing down. The cold, dead stares of the spirits seemed to judge them for their silence.

 

The Master sighed. In one quick motion, he pushed back his hood, letting Luxu see his face for the first time.

 

One eye. Vivid blue. Luxu had already guessed, but seeing it was something else entirely.

 

“I’ve put you through so much, haven’t I?” He said in that special tone. “And I keep doing it.”

 

“It’s okay,” Luxu said, even though it really wasn’t. “I’ll forgive you if you kiss me.”

 

He did. The Master’s lips were chapped, and he tasted just a little like the coffee he’d undoubtedly been drinking all day. Luxu let himself melt into it, savoring what might be the last moment of peace they’d have for a long time.

 

“Go to bed,” the Master said gently when they broke apart. “You’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

 

Part of him was disappointed that the Master hadn't invited him back to his room. Luxu glanced over at the black box, resting almost out of sight behind the Master’s recently cleaned equipment. He’d been tidying up the lab all day, it seemed. Preparing to leave it behind. “Yeah,” he said, mouth dry. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodbye, Luxu.”

 

The meaning was clear. They wouldn’t see each other in the morning.

 

-

 

After Luxu bequeathed No Name to one of the new Union leaders, he prepared himself for a long, long wait. Being apart from No Name wasn't actually as horrible as he expected, if only because he lost all sense of feeling when the Master left. He was numb to it all, simply drifting through each life. Watching successor after successor struggle to wield No Name. Eventually, the new masters decided to mount it on some wall in Scala ad Caelum, having decreed that it was too difficult to handle.

 

Luxu scoffed. Ridiculous. There wasn't a keyblade in existence better than No Name.

 

 **_What a narcissistic thought_** **.** **_But you’re right._ **

 

Luxu was manning the fruit stand he worked at in the marketplace - even ancient masters needed to make money - when he felt it. The touch of someone's hands on No Name. Their grip was strong as they lifted his keyblade to the sky, probably admiring it. The ceremony for those who had passed the recent Mark of Mastery exam had been scheduled for today. It seemed like the current master had chosen a student to wield it, finally. Luxu scooped a handful of cherries into a bag for a customer.

 

It hit him unexpectedly, like the first time he had held No Name. The sense of utter wholeness that coursed through his entire being - stronger and clearer than before.

 

He shoved the bag at the customer, shouted “I'm going on break, cover for me,” to his coworker, and bolted.

 

The courtyard of the wielders’ school was open to the public for the ceremony. Luxu pushed his way through the crowd until he was right in front of the stage where the new masters were being given their keyblades. No Name's wielder was standing proud next to his classmates, showing off his new weapon. He looked powerful, all dark skin and silver hair and grey eyes. Luxu's mouth dried up.

 

The Dark Master looked up, as if startled. Luxu quickly ducked behind someone else, leaving him to scan the crowd in mild confusion. This was a critical phase. Luxu couldn't risk altering his actions now. The Master had been clear. He was to _aid_ the Dark Master. Not steer him.

 

The Dark Master's attention shifted to the dark haired boy standing next to him. No Name pulsed as his feelings poured into it. Luxu's heart responded in kind, drinking up that sweet affection. **_Eraqus_** , No Name whispered.

 

Young love. How quaint.

 

Luxu didn't bother staying around for the rest of the ceremony. He couldn't care less for all that pompous nonsense, especially when the current master lied during her speech and said it was a practice that stretched back to the Age of Fairy Tales. Back then, if the Master said you were a master then you were. No extravagant party required.

 

His heart pounded as he left the grounds. Finally, the aching was gone, replaced with the gentle connection he and the Dark Master now shared. The magic flowed through his veins, mixing with his blood with such ease he could hardly tell it hadn't been there before. The sensation reminded him of the love he still harbored for his Master. Luxu laughed a little when he realized that he must have seen this coming.

 

Would he be jealous? Luxu wanted to know.

 

There was more urgent information to be collected, though. He decided to quit his job the next day and begin shadowing the Dark Master immediately. He'd had more than enough lifetimes to learn how to watch someone without getting caught. It would be easy enough to do. He reached out to No Name through their impervious bond to ask the question.

 

 **_Xehanort_** _,_ No Name said. **_Ours. For now._**

 

Luxu agreed. The Dark Master may be the Master's scapegoat, but he'd put him in Luxu's care.

 

Xehanort was his from the moment he took No Name. Nothing would ever be able to change that.

 

-

 

Luxu thought back to that day a lifetime later, as he kissed Xehanort in one of their labs. Technically it was Ansem the Wise's lab, but he hadn't used it in years and they'd repurposed it for their heart experiments. Sometimes the tests left Xehanort woozy and Luxu - Braig - whoever he was at this point - would hold him and cover his face with kisses until he came back to his senses. Xehanort would always act upset when he came to with Braig pressing soft kisses to his forehead, but it wasn't genuine. Braig could feel it through No Name, through the invisible connection between their hearts - Xehanort enjoyed the physical comfort, no matter how much his pride protested.

 

He was still unaware of the connection between their hearts. Although No Name lay dormant in Xehanort's room, untouched as he had forgotten how to wield it, it still wove gentle threads between them. Their feelings and thoughts were connected just beneath the surface. Keeping Xehanort ignorant of that connection was an unfortunate necessity; if he were to discover their bond, he might realize what was going on and the Master's plan could unravel.

 

Braig grinned as he traced a line down Xehanort's cheek, gazing into those golden eyes. His own eye shone a similar color, physical proof of their _other_ connection. The one Xehanort had made on purpose.

 

 ** _He knows, at least intuitively. We are connected, one of heart and mind. Not forever, though._** Even dormant, No Name could still reach him. And it was still a pain in the ass. _  
_

 

The piece of Xehanort's heart in his chest thudded with affection even as he said, “alright, get off. You're interfering with my work.”

 

“Aw, don't be so hasty,” Braig replied, moving his hand to stroke through Xehanort's silver hair. “We’ll have time for that later.”

 

Xehanort gasped as Braig leaned down to kiss his neck. “No,” he said, “we'll have time for _this_ later. Get off.”

 

“Fine,” Braig said, dramatically jumping down from Xehanort's lap. They'd been sitting on one of the lab's cots, Braig straddling Xehanort's legs and supporting him with his arms. In the absence of that support, Xehanort swayed.

 

Braig took Xehanort's shoulders, steadying him. “Woah there, Mister Master. Don't go falling for me now,” he said with a wink. Xehanort groaned.

 

“I told you to stop using that ridiculous nickname,” he said. “I don't even remember what it means.”

 

“I've told you what it means.”

 

“That's not the same as remembering.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Xehanort glared at him again as he pushed his hands away and stood up. He pulled on the lab coat that had been discarded earlier for the experiment, and Braig mourned how the high collar covered up his neck.

 

He let Xehanort work at the computer for another few minutes before snaking his arms around his waist.

 

“Braig,” Xehanort said, the warning in his voice clear.

 

Braig snickered. “Come on,” he whispered against Xehanort's ear, “we both know what you'd rather be doing right now.”

 

“Yes,” Xehanort said. “I'd rather be analyzing this data.”

 

Braig sighed, leaning over Xehanort's shoulder to kiss his cheek. “Well, I guess if I can't change your mind,” he said.

 

“You can't,” Xehanort replied as he pulled up the results from their experiment on the monitor.

 

He could. Braig could feel how flustered Xehanort was. He _could_ play on that, use his intimate knowledge of what Xehanort was really feeling to get what he wanted. He could, but….

 

But it would be manipulative. And cruel. And after all the decades Luxu had spent watching him, after all the years Braig had enjoyed being by Xehanort's side, he'd gotten more than a little attached. The possessiveness and attraction he'd felt the first time he saw Xehanort at his Mastery ceremony had exploded into full blown love somewhere along the lines. It was a terrible idea, letting it get this far, since he already knew he'd outlive Xehanort. Probably. Resummoning the Foretellers and the Master kind of necessitated that he survive the next keyblade war.

 

The years had changed him, though. For better or for worse, he'd learned to be more forthright about what he wants. Whether it was No Name's influence or simply the realization that life was far, far shorter than he'd ever imagined, he couldn't be sure.

 

Braig rested his head on Xehanort's shoulder, his arms still looped loosely around his waist. Xehanort didn't say a thing, quietly accepting the gesture of affection even though it wouldn't go any further.

 

 _He's happy_ , Braig thought. _So happy. Just like how I felt whenever the Master touched me._ He curled his face against Xehanort's neck.

 

“Braig-!”

 

“I know, I'm not doin’ anything,” he said. It was true; all he'd done was press his face into Xehanort's lab coat. “Just let me stay here for a bit, okay?”

 

“Not that,” Xehanort said hastily. His tone made Braig pause. “Even and Ienzo are coming.”

 

Braig looked up at the security camera monitor Xehanort was insistently gesturing at, and, yep, their two labmates sure were walking down the hallway in their direction. Braig sighed and let go of Xehanort, moving back to a more respectable position leaning against one of the few tables clear of equipment.

 

Even and Ienzo stepped in only a few moments later. What they saw was nothing out of the ordinary; just the two of them studying the results of their most recent tests.

 

Braig didn't hate anyone, really, but he definitely wasn’t fond of his coworkers in that moment. Xehanort was very private by nature, and absolutely adamant that they keep their relationship under lock and key. No one could know, not even their partners-in-crime. It made sense - if the others knew how truly close the two of them were it'd look suspicious - but Braig didn't have to like it.

 

He'd already lived one lifetime hiding his feelings for his Master around his fellow apprentices. He wasn't thrilled about being forced to live another.

 

Even and Ienzo began promptly setting up for one of their own experiments, causing Braig to silently scream in frustration. Luckily, it was already late, and he and Xehanort had played this out many times before.

 

He yawned, stretching slowly only because he knew Xehanort was watching from the corner of his eye. “Well, I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Guard duty tomorrow and all that.”

 

“Take care on your way back to your room,” Even said. He cast an expectant stare towards their youngest colleague. “Ienzo, say goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight,” the child murmured, not looking up from his test tubes.

 

“‘Night, kiddo,” Braig called out as he left the room.

 

He shivered in the cool night air as he left the castle and began walking to the guards’ barracks across the grounds. If the hesitant anticipation pulsing through their bond was anything to go by, Xehanort would come up with an excuse to leave in thirty minutes or so. A long enough time to avoid suspicion, but also short enough that neither of them would get any less excited.

 

Although Braig was already feeling muted. Thinking about the Master always slowed him down, made his heart heavy with longing, but he couldn't really help it. There was something so nostalgic about being with Xehanort. He and the Master were complete opposite personalities, but….

 

But Luxu still loved in the same way. Quietly, persistently. With the same gentle pain in his heart.

 

He wasn't in the mood anymore. Damn.

 

Xehanort showed up anyway. Braig let him in, but instead of kissing him passionately and ripping his clothes off like he knew Xehanort wanted, he pulled them both down on the bed and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

 

**_What's the point? He can't fix this. He can't fix us._ **

 

“What are you doing?” Xehanort said. “I can't undress with you restricting my arms.”

 

“Sorry, babe. Feeling a bit too down for that right now. Can I just hold you?”

 

A flood of soft feelings exploded from their bond. Nice ones. “Of course,” Xehanort said. “Is there anything you'd like to talk about?”

 

“Nah, it's nothing like that. I'm just a little contemplative tonight is all.” He shifted them, so that Xehanort's arms were free and his head was comfortably tucked under Braig's chin. As he started to rub circles into Xehanort's back, he could feel him return the gesture in kind.

 

“Love you,” Braig whispered into silver hair, and he was both saying it to the man next to him and the man he'd lost long, long ago.

 

“The sentiment is mutual,” Xehanort said, voice muffled by Braig's shirt.

 

Both of the men he'd fallen in love with were terminally incapable of returning his feelings out loud. How typical.

 

After about half an hour of lying down together, enjoying each other’s company, Xehanort yawned. “Alright, I need to go,” he said. “If I don’t leave now I’ll fall asleep.”

 

Braig pressed a kiss against his hair. “Is that such a bad thing?”

 

“Yes. The others might see me exit your room in the morning -”

 

“So? They could see you if you leave right now.”

 

“Braig.”

 

“I just wanna sleep with you for one night. Is that too much to ask, darling?” Braig ran his fingers down Xehanort’s spine. “I just wanna wake up with you next to me. Like the old days.”

 

Xehanort was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and just a little bit sad. “I don’t remember the old days.”

 

“I know, you old coot,” Braig said fondly, eliciting an offended scoff from Xehanort. “You will one day. But that’s beside the point. Back then, we used to spend every night together like this.”

 

“Are you quite sure about that?”

 

“Well, okay, maybe not exactly like this. But you know what I mean.” Having Xehanort close like this was intoxicating. He hadn’t felt that static pain since Xehanort had been bequeathed No Name decades ago, but just being put back together wasn’t enough. There was still something missing. He needed to be more than whole, wanted to go to sleep bathing in the sweet magic that connected them and wake up with it surrounding their bodies. He needed him to stay. Just for this one night. The kind of night he’d never had with the Master. “Please?”

 

Xehanort shivered. Braig could feel his anxiety, his anticipation, his loneliness - all the little feelings in his heart that swirled around his thoughts, confusing him to no end. Xehanort had woke up knowing nothing, but still valuing Braig for his loyalty. The love came after. And loving a man you knew next to nothing about was stressful - that Braig knew well enough.

 

That was one of the things that made Xehanort different from the Master. Braig knew _everything_ about him - his favorite color, where he liked to spend his evenings, how he made his coffee, the books he read for entertainment instead of study. Every new bit of information he gathered was filed away in his heart, each little useless fact indescribably important. Xehanort had always been special.

 

“Okay,” Xehanort whispered. The sound of it was unlike him. Braig could feel a sweet, innocent affection ebb into their bond. Similar to the kind he’d felt Xehanort feel for that classmate of his ages ago.

 

First love. He supposed it was, with Xehanort’s memories gone.

 

“You’re mine,” Luxu murmured. “I’ll stay with you forever if you want. Just say the word.”

 

Xehanort didn’t. He’d already fallen asleep. It was probably for the best. Luxu would have to return to the Master one day.

 

**_You’ve changed. You’re not his Luxu anymore. And you won’t be Xehanort’s Braig forever either. Who will you be when you see him again? What face will you wear?_ **

 

Luxu sighed. He had no answers for his heart’s questions. All he had left was the Master's teachings and the man curled up in his arms.

 

-

 

All he had left was nothing.

 

His role was complete. He had no more orders to follow, no more tasks to fulfill. The road he'd walked on forever was at an end.

 

Xehanort was gone, too. After decades of being part of Xigbar's life he was gone. Just like that. No goodbye, no last confession of love. Xigbar had felt Xehanort die, had felt the peacefulness in his heart as he faded away. It made sense - he had Eraqus back, after all. Xigbar hadn't expected to feel that sweet first love blossom through their bond ever again, and he definitely hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did.

 

He dedicated his life to the guy, and he’d been left behind without a second thought. Truth be told, though, he'd lost Xehanort a long time ago. The moment he had regained his memories and caught sight of his goal again it was over.

 

**_Time was up. It wasn’t destined to be forever. We knew that -_ **

 

“Shut _up,_ ” Xigbar hissed, feeling only a little ridiculous about snapping at his own keyblade. No Name stared up at him, piercing blue eye looking deep into his soul. When the response came, Xigbar almost didn’t realize it wasn’t No Name speaking.

 

“Oh no, you two have a falling out? Must be rough, fighting with your own heart!”

 

Luxu turned to face him. The keyblade-graves sparkled under the sunlight. Wind kicked dust into his face.

 

The Master had returned.

 

Standing among the ruins, perfect and utterly nonchalant. Greeting him like this was just another ordinary day in Daybreak Town. Like nothing had happened. Like Luxu was still his. It was probably for the best that the others had left already. No doubt they'd be angry, betrayed, disenchanted. And it was definitely for the best that Ava hadn't shown up at all. Luxu had always liked her, regarded her as something of a friend. She was better off not seeing this.

 

He narrowed his eye, feeling, for the first time in his life, utterly unimpressed with his Master. “You’re late,” he said, letting disrespect drip from his voice.

 

“I know, I know, I just got caught up in some stuff,” the Master said vaguely. “You know how it is.”

 

Luxu raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”

 

The Master clicked his tongue, catching on to the hidden question. “Sure you do! I tell you everything, don’t I?”

 

“As if.”

 

“Well, I tell you everything that’s important!” The Master strode up to him, moving to place a friendly hand on his shoulder. Luxu quickly stepped out of the way.

 

The Master paused, as if surprised. Luxu scoffed. Hadn’t he foreseen this, too? “You gonna take the box off my hands or what?”

 

“Of course!” The Master said cheerfully, but Luxu knew better than to trust his tone. Thousands of years spent observing people had only strengthened his unique ability to read the Master. He could plainly see the tension in his stance, the uncertainty of his place in Luxu’s heart.

 

“Good. Means I can get out of here,” Luxu said. He dropped the chain tying him to the box, the last lingering connection he had with all of this garbage, and turned to leave.

 

“What?” The Master said, startled. So, so easy to read. “Where do you think you’re going? Your role -”

 

“Is finished. I’m out. Gone. Done with this shit,” Luxu replied. It was easier to say with his back to the Master, facing the nameless graves of the ancient battlefield he’d once borne witness to. “See you never.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah - waitaminute - Luxu waitaminutewaitaminute _waitaminute_!” The Master said, voice panicky as he ran in front of Luxu to block his path. Luxu noted with detached amusement that he was taller than the Master now. Probably physically stronger, too. The idea that this guy could stop him from leaving was laughable at best. “There was a reason I picked you for this role, I knew you’d stay loyal - !”

 

“Yep. I stayed loyal,” Luxu said. The piece of Xehanort’s heart which still lived trapped in his chest thudded. There was no emotion there anymore, with Xehanort being dead and all. His own fractured heart, split between his chest and No Name, was similarly numb. Numb to Xehanort's death, numb to the Master's return. He'd felt so much for so long that he didn't think he'd ever be able to feel again. “I stayed loyal for _a thousand years._ Can you even imagine what that was like? Watching all that violence and death and horror? Being forced to just observe as the world around you goes to shit? Worst thing is, I don't even care anymore!” He gestured wildly to the keyblades surrounding them. “I don't care about any of this shit!”

 

“Luxu -”

 

“Did you know? Of course you did. You knew I'd end up like this, you knew I'd lose him just like I lost you, you knew and you still fucking did it! Was it worth it?!”

 

The Master was silent for the longest few seconds of Luxu's life. Then he pulled down his hood.

 

His face was different. His eyes, lips, hair, everything. But the look he gave Luxu was just the same as the one he gave him all those years ago during the last night they'd had together.

 

“Luxu,” he said, and Luxu cursed the gods because his tone was just the same as it was back then too, “I know I chose my plans over you. I chose _myself_ over you. You're right about everything. And you've done _so well_. You don't have to stay. But… is there anything I can do to convince you to?”

 

Luxu was furious. Centuries of suffering, followed by decades of peace, then the last few excruciating days all leading up to - what? A half baked not-even-apology? The expectation of continued blind loyalty with nothing given in return?

 

Still, his heart came back to life at the sound of that man's voice. It was still fractured, and the part that used to belong to Xehanort was still dead, but it was _something_.

 

Luxu made up his mind. He had waited long enough, settled long enough. There was only one thing that could convince him to stay.

 

“Say it,” he said. “Say it right now.”

 

The Master's mouth dropped open silently. Luxu waited. He was just about to ready a portal and get the hell out when he heard it.

 

“I love you.”

 

It was so soft he almost missed it. “I couldn't quite make that out,” he said, grinning. “Say it again.”

 

“I _love_ you,” the Master said, louder this time. “I love you, Luxu. I love -”

 

Luxu cut him off with a kiss.

 

_**See? Now you understand. We didn't fit together before. We were pieces of a puzzle with the edges frayed. Xehanort couldn't fill the gaps because his heart never really belonged to us. But the Master is different.** _

 

Different, Luxu thought, sounded absolutely perfect.


End file.
